American Horror Story: Brotherhood
by Mockingjack
Summary: After the witch trails many fled Salem, it is rumored those Covens have died out. The smarter ones hid amongst the mundane. But now - 322 years later - only few warlocks remain, and how will they fair against their enemies, outside and within?


**A/N: Hey! I'm lame and I decided to write a new story that - let's be honest - i probably won't get around to finishing. However, I am obsessed with American Horror Story (Have been since S01E01) and I am determined to actually finish this! Warlocks are mentioned a couple times through Coven (Quentin, Leonardo Da Vinci), but the idea was never really explored. This chapter follows Ricky Walsh, and eighteen-year-old guy who lives in Salem. I don't know if I should stick to just Ricky's perspective or do a perspective from different characters in the future, so please let me know in reviews or DM's.**

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><p>"So... I'll see you tommorrow then?" She says. Mary Grace Porter. She'd been asking me to go to this party for what feels like weeks. Her lips formed that ever so familiar smirk, as if she knows exactly when the world will end. Her deep brown puppy dog eyes not being able to take no for an answer. Not to mention the fact that she's my girlfriend. Should I go? I shake the idea out of my head.<p>

"I'm sorry! I've told you like three times now, my cousins are coming up from Georgia. Dad says I can't leave the house without them all weekend," I lie, defensively. It's not that I don't like her, I really do, but I hate parties. I'm always persuaded to go. 'It'll be different this time,' or 'I heard Caitlin is gonna be there and I need a wingman!'. Either way, I always end up sitting at the side with the company of my phone and lemonade, because i'm the one that gets stuck driving my drunk friends home at 2 AM.

"Bring them with you! Come on, It'll be different this time!" She pleads. I greet the familiar sentence as an old friend.

"They're twelve," I continue, "Look, if I could go I probably would, but it's not my decision, i'm sorry". Lies, lies, lies.

"Can I get that in writing?" She smirks again, "I'll let you off, but your coming next time no matter what, deal?" She jokingly extends her hand for me to shake. Reluctantly I do.

"Alright, I'll see you on Monday?" I ask. Our Mom's are both apart of this charity group. The SCDB. Salem Care for the deaf and blind. It's not that I don't think it's important, but they organise a gathering almost monthly. Anyway, Mary Grace and I get roped in to go almost every month, we have to help out at the stalls and generally not have a good time.

"Shit, I forgot about that. It feels like it comes quicker every month," She complains, "Anyway, see you then".

We both go our separate ways home, and I put in some headphones to pass the time. I was never into the pop music that everyone else was into. Instead I put on some punk rock, because theres nothing better to listen to on a long walk than The Ramones. I live five blocks away. I've walked about two blocks before I start noticing something strange. First off, the streets are almost empty. No cars have gone by since i've started walking. Secondly, the only other people on the streets are these two guys in black suits. I noticed them a while ago when I was crossing the street. I take out my phone and access the front camera. I lift it up as if i'm looking at my face, but the camera is looking past my shoulder. The taller one - probably around 6'2'' - has a buzz cut and he is built like an ox. The other guy is probably around my height (5'10''). He has muscle but he walks quite awkwardly, as if he is unsettled.

I make a turn left at the junction, even though the way home is right. I need to know if these guys are following me, and why. My plan is to walk around the block. If they're not following they wouldn't walk all the way around just to end up in the same place. I always thought I was a fast walker, but walking this street feels like an eternity - nothing ever happens in Salem, Massachusetts after all. I know something is up when I make my second turn left. The two guys, who before seemed to be thirty feet behind me now look to be ten. I try to pick up the pace as I make my third turn and make my way back to the first street.

When I make the fourth turn, I don't bother to look if they're following me. I bolt forward to the first house and dive behind a hedge. Just as I look between the leaves, I see the two guys turn around the corner. The shorter, more awkward one of them stops for a second, but the buzz-cut-guy grabs him by the arm, urging him to move forward. Buzz cut guy mutters something, "If he has the power of transmutation then we have no time to stop and wait." What is he on about? They continue past the house, but I wait here for a couple minutes. Who where those guys? Why were they following me? Are they still looking for me? Just as I am about to get up and leave, a black transit van slowly makes its way around the corner. Through the window I see another guy in a black suit in shades. Are all these people looking for me? I'm hoping not to find out.

I wait another couple minutes before I think it's safe. My house is still three blocks away, so i'll have to run if I want to make it home unseen. I get up and look around the edge of the hedge. The black van is no where to be seen, neither are the two men. I make a break for it, so anxious that i'm almost tripping over my own feet. I run across the street, habit forcing me to look both ways even though there are no cars on the street. I make it to the junction, but when I turn the two guys are waiting there, as if they knew where i'd turn. The awkward one points at me, looking more determined than unsettled now, and buzz cut guy makes a run towards me. I curse under my breath. I turn back, but the third guy is running towards me from the direction I came. I look left and his black van is parked about half way down the road. Probably my best option, I start sprinting down the left road. I was always quite good at long distance sprinting - I almost never came first but I way a certain second or third. I did cross-country all the way through high school. As I near the black van, I look back to see how much of a lead i've got unsettled-turned-determined guy is about ten-feet-behind me, followed by the van driver. Buzz cut guy is no where to be seen. Before I can even look back again I slam into something large and wide. My feet lose balance and i'm toppling forward along with whatever I ran into. I land, my head colliding with something hard and wet. Buzz cut guy's nose. How did he even get there so fast? I don't have time to stop and ask him because he looks pretty angry now, with a bloody nose. He grabs my left arm, but I used my right to punch him in the nose again. I stumble to get to my feet, but I can't even regain my balance before he grabs me by my ankle and i'm lying on the concrete on my back.

"Stupid fucker," Buzz cut guy says, as he kneels down beside me. He sends down his fist into my gut. Fire ran through every fiber of my abdomen, and I taste bile, adrenaline and a hint of blood. Defeated, I clench my hands over my stomach, winded and gasping for air.

"Enough!" the driver shouted at buzz cut guy, "Marko, get him into the van"

Buzz cut guy - Marko - roughly grabbed me by both arms. The awkward guy opened the sliding door and then entered the van, followed by Marko and I. I try to use my legs, and get him off balance, but he won't give.

"Looks like we've got a fighter," the awkward guy laughed, followed by a quick, 'shut up Jon' from the driver.

All my kicking attempts failing, Marko shoves me in a seat opposite Jon. He sits to my left, and the third guy puts handcuffs far too tight around my wrist. He then gets out to shut the van doors. I just about get enough air back into my lungs to speak. "What do you want from me?" I ask, "I don't have any money, I'm eighteen and I can't get a job".

Jon is the one to answer. "Don't worry, we're not here to hurt you," He assures, "We're here to help you." I cringe. He continues talking, but i'm too anxious to listen. The third guy gets in the driver's seat and starts up the van. Out of the mumble of words erupting out of Jon's mouth I only catch a couple: Salem, 1692, Warlocks, Supreme... the list goes on. I try to thing of a plan to escape. I could make a bolt for the door, but what if it's locked? How would I get there without Marko stopping me? I could elbow him in the face, but would that be enough? And still, theres that door problem...

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Jon laughs, "If you didn't notice he's a bit hot-headed."

Did I say that out loud? Shit! Can he hear what I'm saying now!? He looks at me quizically. The van starts moving and i'm panicking. I should make a run for it, right? It's either that or I get kidnapped and probably murdered. I'm just about to make a break for it when my blood turns cold. Like ice, except it has a buzzing feel to it. Quicker that a blink I'm on the other side of the door, half-standing-half-tumbling backward into the street. The van continues moving but i'm not in it. I try to rub my eyes in disbelief, but they are bound together by the metal chain. I look around, people are flooding the streets now, as if they all decided to come out at once. Cars are moving in the street just as normal. I have no time to question it, I make a run for my house.

I run non-stop at what feels like a hundred-miles-an-hour, not even looking back to see if i'm being followed. I can hear the van behind me, a low roar below the high motoring sounds of the other cars. But are my persuers willing to race through the streets, will they risk it just to catch one eighteen year old guy?

Even after two blocks I don't slow down, I turn the corner onto my street. My adrenaline tells me it's best not to use the streets anymore. I run into the first house's driveway and hop the short fence into their garden - I'm sure they won't mind, a group of mad men are coming for me after all. I continue hopping fences from garden to garden, which is a task when your wearing handcuffs. The third fence is wooden and seven foot tall. I'm about to do the only thing I can, ram into it with my shoulders, when all of a sudden, my blood turns to ice again. My vision goes black for a microsecond and all of a sudden I'm in my garden. I feel dizzy and I fall to my knees. No time to rest, I need to get inside. I get to my feet and make my way over to the back door. Getting the keys out of my pocket is a hassle, but when I do, I slide it into the door and unlock it. The door slides open and I walk into the back room - the kitchen. Through the gap in the wall I can see my parents sitting on the couch watching TV. I have no where to cover my hands, so I hide them in plain sight. The stairs up to my room are only a few feet behind the couch.

"Ricky?" Dad calls into the kitchen, "That you? Why did you come in through the back door?"

"Uh, I lost my key," I stutter, "So I went to see if the back door was open."

"Again?" He moans, I admit that my key handling skills are lacking.

"Oh, there they are," I lie, making an effort to jangle them.

I make a break for the staircase, but just as I reach the first step Mom chimes up, "Hold on a sec, where have you been? Your grounded remember! The ear stretchers, ring any bells?"

Shit, I forgot all about that. I tried hiding it from her but it only lasted three months. I only got it up to 4mm anyway, so no big deal right? Not to mention that i'm eighteen, it's my body and i'm using my money, so what's the problem right? But no, it's her house, her rules. I could probably say something back but that would lead to a thirty minute lecture on my behavior so instead I play it smart, to get upstairs ASAP.

"Sorry, I was out giving in my job application to a couple places, you know that new coffee shop at the mall?"

"OK fine, but from now on your in the house all weekend"

That's not exactly a punishment, but I make my way upstairs anyway. Going into my room I drag along my dad's toolbox from the landing. We only just moved in a couple months ago so luckily he's still working on it. I shut the door, but I don't have a lock. I decide to move a chest of drawers infront of it, and I do so by sitting against it and push away from the wall with my legs. The perks of living in a box room. I begin rumaging through the toolbox to find anything that could help. Wrench - no, Screwdriver -no, and then I come across a pair of bolt cutters. Peculiar, but they'll do. I hold them between my knees, and hold my wrists so that the chain passes inbetween them. After many a failed attempt, I finally cut the chain. At least now I can move my wrists around.

How am I supposed to get out of these cuffs? A hammer makes too much noise, and even if it didn't, how would I use it? How am I supposed to tell my parents that I was walking home - from a place that definitely wasn't the new coffee shop at the mall - when three guys in suits kidnap me? Not only that but I was teleported outside their van to escape? I wouldn't even understand me, and I was there! I grab one of the cuffs with my hand and try to twist it; see how loose it is. No use, those guys put them on way to tight. Shit, are they still out there!?

It's about 4:30, and the sun rays are still shining through the gaps in my blinds. I don't dare open them, but i lift one up so I can peer through the gap. The streets are silent once again. I can't see or hear any cars on the street - if they're still out there they must have stopped. I sit down on my bed, finally feeling like I can relax. That lasts for a second of two, then i'm back on the handcuff case.

I try one more time at twisting them, again with no luck. That's when the burning starts. It started as a tingling sensation running through my whole body - beginning in my chest and running through to the edge of my fingertips. Blue flames engulfing my wrists; my skin blistering and melting off, black mixed with the silver of the steel. Instinct takes over me and i'm covering my arms with the bed covers - suffocating the flame. I sit on the covers, everyone one of my cells begging me to let out a cry of pain, but I can't afford to be loud now. Even when the flames cut out, my skin is burning. I don't dare so take my arms out yet: partly incase the flame isn't out yet, partly because I don't want to see the damage that has been done. Will there even be skin left? Will I have burnt down to the bone? I brace myself, as I stand, taking my arms out from under the sheets. They sting when my skin meets the air. Skin. The bone isn't visible at all. Third degree burns on both wrists. The skin around them is blistering, but overall not as bad as I had imagined. The burns only stretch for a couple inches, starting at the base of my hand and up my wrist. "What the fuck..." I whisper to myself.

"Richard Walsh!" I hear my dad shout up from downstairs, "What the hell are you doing up there!?" Maybe I wasn't as quite as I thought. I hear his footsteps on the stairs and I begin to panic. I'm already red and sweating from pain, not to mention the burns, but this is the icing on the cake. He reaches the door and tries to enter, but the chest of drawers conveniently stops that. "Rich? Open up," He doesn't sound as angry this time. I move the drawers out of the way, but not before taking a pair of black sweatbands and putting them around my wrists. I sit on my bed and he walks in.

"Ricky, what's going on with you?" He starts, "Your mom worries about you, you know?"

"I'm fine, nothing is going on," I don't return his eye contact, "and I don't need anyone to worry about me..."

He sighs, "Dinner is almost ready". Then he leaves, shutting my door behind him.

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><p>Dinner is quiet. There is silence for a whole ten minutes as I pick away at my meatloaf. With a lot of effort, dad tries to start up a conversation.<p>

"Son, your mother and I were talking and... well, you've finished high school now and since your not going to college, I think it's about time you start a job". Neither him or mom are eating, they're just looking at me.

"I told you, I was at that coffee shop earlier," I say, that was my lie, wasn't it?

They exchange a look, "No, I mean a proper job. You don't want be working in a coffee shop for the rest of your days do you?" I'm worried were this is going... "So, A new spot has opened up at the plumbing firm where I work and I was thinking that-"

"No," I cut in. Obviously working in a coffee shop wasn't my end goal, but neither is being a plumber. Honestly, I havent't figured everything out yet, but I have average grades. And it's not like I didn't want to go to college, I did, but I didn't get into any. And i'm not going to some community college with all the other rejects from high school. No, I'm on the waiting list for a couple of colleges and i'll be attending one next semester, if not next year. I didn't tell them because I didn't want them to be angry - if you haven't clocked on already, they're kind of strict. I guess it's no use now though, so I tell them.

Mom is the one that chimes in now, "I'm not even angry, i'm just disappointed," She sighs, "Starting next semester your going to go to that community college and thats final".

"Seriously? Why can't you just give me a choice to do what I want?"

"Community college or plumbing with your dad, that's your choice" She says firmly.

"That's bullshit!"

"Don't speak to your mother that way!" Dad shouts, "And get those sweatbands of this is a dining table not a basketball game."

I can feel the heat rising to my face, yet I know i've turned pale. Both of them look at me quizically, and I don't know what to do. I feel defeated, I should probably just tell them.

"Ok, it's not as bad as it looks, I promise," I start to take off one of the sweatbands, "I was on my way back from the mall when-" I pause in surprise. Theres nothing there. No blisters, no burns, my skin has returned to the pale colour it usually is. I pause for a while, unable to fathom what has happened.

"What? What happened?" Dad asks, he sounds calmer know, but his voice still sounds stern as usual.

"Uh, nothing..." I reply, still in shock and unable to come up with a convincing lie, "I'm, uh, gonna finish this in my room". I down my glass of water and grab my plate, making my way out of the kitchen. If they object, i'm too shocked to hear them, and I feel too dizzy. What's happening to me?

I make it halfway up the stairs when someone knocks on the door. I think my mom shouts in to me to answer it, but I don't understand her. She speed walks in and opens it herself, speechless as I am when I see who it is. Jon stands infront, with Marko behind him. I drop my meatloaf on the stairs.

"Ms Ald-" Jon starts, Marko nudging him, "uh... Walsh. Can I speak with you for a second?"

The colour from her face drains, and I can tell she is struggling to find words. But the expression on her face is clear - they know each other.

"Who is it honey?" Dad shouts in from the kitchen.

"Um, It's just some salesmen," She replies shakily, "This will only take a minute". She looks at me, but i'm unable to read her expression. She turns back and steps outside, the door swinging closed behind her. I sit on the stairs, overcome by shock I don't even think I can try fight against it anymore. It feels like i'm there for hours, but I look at the clock and it's only been ten minutes.

Marko is the one to open the door. And he walks over to the stairs where I am. He stands at the bottom with his fists clenched, as if he wants to do something but he has to hold back. Mom follows him in, she isn't as pale now, but her eyes are red and sort of puffy. Jon stands in the doorway.

"Ricky," She says in an unsteady voice, "You need to go with them. They'll tell you everything, I'm so sorry." She brings her hand up to her mouth as if holding back tears.

"What's going on?" I say, "They tried to kidnap me!"

"Calm down, everything is going to be fine," Jon states, avoiding my question.

I turn to go back upstairs, but my legs don't move. When I try to, they feel like stone. All of a sudden I'm walking down the steps, yet at the same time paralyzed. I try to hard to resist, but the most I can do is move my eyes. Breathing is futile as my lungs are solid as marble.

My limbs regain conciousness as I reach the bottom the the stairs. I aim to retaliate, but before I can even try Marko grabs me from behind, trapping my arms against my sides. He half-drags half-carries me out of the front door. As I pass Jon, he whispers to me that everything is going to change.

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><p><strong>AN: So what did you think? Did you like it or not? Please leave a review (if your critisising make it constructive), and I might upload some more in the future. Thanks for reading!**


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